


Breaking the Habit

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Cigarettes, Conversations, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Dialogue Heavy, Friendship/Love, Gay Sex, Kissing, M/M, Secret Relationship, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 17:09:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14835749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: Nicky doesn't smoke, but for Mark he'll try anything once.  It's not like you can get addicted that easily.





	Breaking the Habit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ausfil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ausfil/gifts).



> This was supposed to be for the prompt "they work together and one takes a smoke break, and the other wants to impress them so bad so they act like they've smoked all along but it's a coughing fiasco" but then it turned into more of a romantic fiasco and now we've got a goddamn saga on our hands.
> 
> Not proof-read. Every mistake is definitely my own.

Nicky had promised himself he wouldn't do this.

Not that promises were something he was used to keeping. He'd promised himself he wouldn't kiss that boy in the backseat of his shitty Ford Focus. Promised himself he wouldn't climb out his bedroom window _again_ to meet another boy in the park. Promised himself this was the fucking _final_ time he did something stupid for a boy, because getting kicked out of movies he hadn't paid for and pretending to care about French literature and of course he'd been vegan all _along_ and was this _tofu?_

He wasn't that person. He was determined and competitive and outspoken, and all it took was a flirty smile and he'd be whatever a cute boy expected him to be.

“Pizza's ordered,” Kian announced. A collective cheer went up from the group. Nicky snorted. Collapsed across the sofa in Shane's living room. In _Sligo_. In a damn country town. In a _boyband_.

Probably the best place for him. Boyband members weren't chasing around a tight arse in tight jeans and pretending to be really interested in tropical fish. Not unless there was a girl attached, anyway.

He was done with boys. It was time to focus on himself. On his career. Another shot at another dream.

“Nico? Beer?”

“Cheers.” He accepted the bottle from Bryan. “What did we get?”

“Whatever Mark can nick from the shop,” Kian laughed. “He's knocking off now. Be ten minutes away.” He flopped down next to Nicky. “Hopefully he can pinch a garlic bread.”

“Remember that time someone cancelled that party order of hot wings?” Michael added. “Good times.”

“We were drowning in them for days,” Kian sighed. Nicky shook his head. The simple pleasures, apparently. Anything to break up the excitement of tractors and cow shit.

He did like these boys, though. They were good sorts. He hoped he could stay. Hoped this could be the dream that worked. That sense of belonging he'd been searching for since he'd left football. Hard work was the best thing for him. Kept him focused. Stopped him from...

“Delivery!” it came from the hallway. Shane pushed himself up to help. Nicky stayed flopped on the sofa. If his heart was quickening it was because he was hungr-

“What did we get?”

“Plain cheese and a pepperoni.” Mark shrugged off his jacket. Cheeks pink from the cold air, hair raked back and flattened when he lifted off his uniform cap. His lips were red. The shirt was a little too tight, one he'd owned since he'd gotten the job two years before. No point investing in a new one, he'd said, when he was quitting the moment he could. If any of them were meant for bigger things, it was Mark.

He was smiling in Nicky's direction. Nicky smiled helplessly back, his chest flooding with the kind of heat he suspected he'd feel again the following morning when the pizza was trying to digest. Slightly sick and wishing he hadn't indulged in the first place.

Still, he hadn't stopped staring at Mark.

“I'm popping out for some air before dinner.” Mark draped his jacket over the back of the closest chair. “Anybody coming?” Everybody shook their heads. “Shane? Thought you were always up for a session?”

“Not tonight.” Shane was looking hungrily at the pizza.

“Just me then.”

“I'll come,” Nicky blurted. Mark raised an eyebrow. “Er. If you don't mind.”

“Sure. More the merrier.” He was already drifting back down the front hall. Nicky tried to follow slowly enough to look casual, though his heart clenched when Mark glanced over his shoulder and winked.

It was cold outside. They both leaned against the railing, looking up at the stars. He could feel Mark behind him, warm and close. Wished he knew what was going on in there. Mark was a closed book. Nicky had thought him quiet at first. Mysterious. Mysterious boys had always been his weakness. Enigmas to be unwrapped, in every sense of the word.

But Mark was sweeter than the other enigmas had turned out to be. Funnier. A broad, cheeky sense of humour and eyes that lit up shyly when he was laughing out loud at something, as though his own voice was unexpected. And sometimes he looked back at Nicky too. Or maybe he didn't. It was hard to tell. If that hand-brush had been intentional or just closeness in the back of a car headed to the recording studio. If the pat on the back was nothing more than congratulations for nailing a new dance step.

“Alright?”

“Yeah.” Nicky looked over. Mark was rummaging in his pockets. “Just... a lot's happening at once.”

“Know what you mean.” He slipped something out, lifted the contents to his mouth. “Didn't bring your own?”

“Must've... left them in my other jeans.” He looked at the packet of cigarettes in realisation. Popping out for some air. Of course. “It's okay. They're yours.”

“You can get me back next time.” Mark held out the packet. Nicky bit his lip, then reached for one. It wasn't like it was going to hurt anything, was it? New experiences. Just one. Never mind his mother would beat him with the rough end of a hairbrush if she ever found out.

“Thanks.” He reached for one. It felt strange in his hand. Mark nodded and lit his, fingers clasping it expertly. “I didn't know you smoked.”

“I don't.” He tapped his nose conspiratorially, then flicked the lighter. Nicky hesitated, leaned in. Took a clumsy drag that he held in his mouth for a moment. It tasted awful. He breathed it back out. “Neither does Shane, if anyone asks.”

“Shane does?”

“Shane's quitting.” It came from over his shoulder. They both turned. Mark tossed him the packet. Shane snorted. “Shane knows it's terrible for his voice.”

“Didn't stop you while you were chaining fags behind the hall at choir rehearsal.”

“Pot kettle,” Shane said idly. Mark shrugged. “Nico's true colours are out, apparently. And I know I've seen yellow stains on Bryan's fingers.”

“Change it to Fag-life.”

“Might give the wrong impression,” Nicky chuckled nervously. They both laughed. Shane leaned on Mark's other side and blew out an expert string of smoke that twisted toward the sky. Nicky looked at his. It was beginning the die out. He lifted it to his mouth and watched it glow to life as he breathed in. Managed to stifle a cough. He was sure if he started coughing he'd never stop. Or he'd throw up. Jesus Christ it tasted awful.

“Will miss this, though,” Shane murmured.

“What's that?” Nicky asked.

“Just... you know. Taking a break. God we've had some good chats out here.” He smiled at Mark, who nodded. “Built the band over a cig.”

“Really?”

“Mm.” Mark nodded. “Sort of, anyway. I remember being shite-scared of Shane. Then he came out and bummed one and we got to talking.”

“You were scared? Of Shane?”

“Well, not scared,” Mark chuckled. Shane was grinning. Five-foot nothing and with the friendliest eyes Nicky had ever seen. “Intimidated maybe. He was so popular and I didn't know what to say to him, like. I just knew he was doing what I wanted, you know?”

“I was blown away by _you_ ,” Shane laughed. “Fuck me, that voice.”

“Yeah. Well.” Mark looked away shyly. “Anyway.” He nudged Shane. “If you're quitting I'll have to replace you. Can tell Nicky all my secrets instead.” An arm wrapped around Nicky's shoulders. “Best friends now. Fresh blood.”

“You can cough your lungs out together.” Shane looked at his cigarette. “Shit that's good.” Nicky was still trying to puff surreptitiously on his without inhaling. It didn't fit his fingers. He tried to match Mark. Tried to hold it in a way that didn't feel like he was about to burn himself. Shane stubbed his. “I'm out.”

“Quitter.”

“That's the plan.” Shane laughed. “I'm going in before the pizza's gone. Have fun lads.”

“Won't be long.” The door shut behind Shane. When Nicky looked up Mark was smiling at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Mark nudged him gently. “I hope you stay.”

Nicky exhaled. Watched the smoke drift up to blur the stars, mingling with Mark's.

“Me too,” he murmured.

  
  


*

  
  


“I'm sorry.”

Mark nodded. Nicky was stopped in the doorway. Inside there were three boys sitting miserably in the living room. Outside there was Mark, who had stood, suddenly, and stalked from the room.

“It's okay.” His back was stiff. Nicky felt trapped. Guiltily relieved that it hadn't been him. Had been someone else whose face had fallen and dreams had been dashed. Michael had gone home. He wished he wasn't glad. None of them had known what to say to him.

“Want me to go?”

“No. You can stay.” Mark patted the railing beside him. His hand turned over to reveal a cigarette. Nicky stepped forward to take it.

“Sorry. I meant to bring mine...”

“S'fine.” Mark held out his lighter. Despite his misgivings, Nicky sucked it alight. He'd felt ill for two days after the last time. A green, parched feeling he hadn't cared for. Maybe the second time was the charm. Practice and all that.

Not that this was going to be a habit.

“Congratulations.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Nicky leaned his chin in his hand. He didn't know what else to say. Took a drag instead and felt his throat tense as it filled his lungs. Managed to stifle a cough. Mark was staring at him.

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“Oh... no.” He realised his eyes were full of tears, that the contortions of his face had been read as something different than just trying to breathe without throwing up. “It's fine. I wouldn't want to make it about me.” Mark's hand rested gently on his shoulder.

“You're allowed to be happy.”

“I am. Happy. I just...” He sighed. “We're lucky. We made it this far.”

“We did.” Mark chewed his lip. “I get it, you know? It could have been any of us. I'm not gonna lie and say I'm not happy it wasn't me.”

“It was never going to be you.” Nicky laughed in disbelief. Mark didn't reply. “Come on. With that voice? You're not going anywhere.”

“Thanks, but.” Mark shrugged. “It's the other stuff. I'm not the best dancer. I know I'm not. I'm not boyband material. Girls aren't screaming over me. I'm just.” He grimaced. “I dunno. I'm just normal. I never know what to say. What if we have to do interviews and stuff? Everyone looks right in the photos and I look like I've gotten lost basically.” He sighed. “Yeah.”

“Well, that's just a load of crap.” Nicky poked him. “Idiot.”

“Cheers.”

“You know what I mean.” Mark's cigarette was almost gone. Nicky had some catching up to do. He took two long sucks to watch the paper curl. He was getting more used to it. There was a technique. Not his favourite, but certainly not as awful as his mother had always made out. Not that he'd be telling her about this.

“Do I?”

“Yeah.” Mark was frowning at the grass on the other side of the railing. “You honestly don't know how great you are, do you?” Derisive snort in reply. Nicky nudged him. “We're all new to this. We'll work out the kinks. But you belong here. You're funny and you're gorgeous and everyone's going to love you.”

“Oh.” Mark's face was going red. Nicky couldn't look at him. Suspected he'd been gushing. “Um. You too.” He was suddenly very interested in his cigarette, though Nicky could see him peeking across from under long lashes. “I am glad you stayed. I feel like... now that you're here everything's going to be okay. Like we're getting it right finally.”

“Me too.” Nicky touched his arm. His hand was covered a moment later, sending a thrill up his spine.

“You're out.”

“Hm?” He realised Mark meant his cigarette. “Whoops. Got distracted.” He held it out for Mark to relight. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Mark studied him. “This is nice. Like... taking a break together.”

“It is.” Mark stubbed his out.

“You can go inside if you want,” Nicky offered. He still had half of his to go.

“I'll wait for you.” Mark dropped the butt into the ashtray at his feet.

“I'll be quick.”

“No hurry.” Mark leaned on the railing again. “Company's good.”

  
  


*

  
  


“Coming?” Mark shouted. Nicky turned. Halfway to plastered and Mark leaning against his shoulder as though Nicky was the only thing propping him up. Nicky didn't know that he should be trusted with the privilege.

They made their way to the balcony. Sixteen storeys up, beautiful top floor venue in the centre of London. It had rained all day but the weather couldn't change their mood. First single. First number _one_.

The cold at least slapped some sobriety back into him. He laughed when Mark leaned out over the edge of the railing to let the rain soak his face.

“Alright?” he chuckled.

“Amazing.” Mark grinned. “I'm just...” He started patting his pockets. “Ah, fuck.”

“Gotcha.” Nicky dug a packet out of his pocket. “Said I'd get you back.” It was an old joke. He carried them on him everywhere now. They were like a talisman. He didn't touch them on his own, but when Mark was around it was a little promise that they might get some time together. A broken moment without the others that he was coming to treasure.

It still wasn't his favourite thing, but it was easier. Something he indulged in once a week or so. Something shared.

He lit both, passed one Mark's way.

“That lass is interested.”

“I know.” Mark glanced her way. A woman from the record company, a bit older but gorgeous in a plunging red dress. “Um.” He wiped the rain off his face with the corner of his suit jacket. “It's weird. People keep being interested and I don't know...” He glanced at Nicky. “Well, you know. Nobody was interested before. Not when it was just me.”

“I can guarantee you they were,” Nicky teased. Mark shook his head. “Maybe you're just better at noticing now. Come out of your shell.”

“Or maybe they think I've got money.”

“They'd be seriously wrong.” They both snorted. Lord knew their hotel rooms and flights didn't come out of their own pockets. It was almost like being with a sugar daddy. Out on your own you could barely buy lunch, but when you were with them it was fancy cars and parties. You were dependent. Maybe they liked it that way. If Nicky thought about it too much he might go mad.

“You know on the Boyzone tour that lad Richie?” Nicky nodded. “He... hit on me too.” It came out in a rush. Nicky raised an eyebrow.

“Did he now?”

“I said no, obviously. But.” He glanced at Nicky. “Just... that hasn't happened before.”

“You don't think boys fancy you?”

“I hadn't thought about it.” Mark's expression was pained, and where once Nicky would have been heartbroken it was almost funny. Mark's smile still lit up a room, but he was also the boy Nicky had seen drunk. The one who farted on the bus and the one who was surprisingly good at Street Fighter. Having a crush was inconvenient. Got in the way of appreciating just how fantastic Mark was. Rose coloured glasses weren't good for anything but hiding the rough parts, the scars. The off-colour jokes he told to hide when he felt overwhelmed. The way he looked after a fresh haircut, unsure and lip-bitten.

He was stunning.

Okay, maybe Nicky still had a crush.

“I promise boys fancy you,” Nicky chuckled. “Everyone fancies you.” Mark took a fretful drag. “Something wrong with that?”

“No. I mean. I don't mind about people being-” He sighed. “I didn't give off a vibe did I?”

“I don't know. Did you want to?”

“No!” Mark exclaimed. Nicky giggled. “No,” he hissed. Nicky was still laughing. “I wouldn't...” Mark looked like he was trying to curl in on himself. “You ever had a boy hit on you?”

“Once or twice.”

“And?”

“Dunno. Depended on how cute they were.” Mark's eyes were saucers. “That alright?”

“Yeah. I mean. I just... I-I didn't realise. Sorry.”

“For what?”

“If it sounded like...” He ran a nervous hand through his hair. “If you are that's fine. Um.” He edged back in. “I mean, you didn't say.”

“Didn't think it was relevant.” Protecting himself, maybe. Not lying, but testing the waters. For a year or so. He hadn't been a saint, god knew that, but there'd certainly been less time to play around since the first thorns of fame had caught at their matching suits.

“Alright lads?” Nicky turned to find Bryan sidling up next to him. Nicky handed him the lighter. “Cheers.” He lit up. Handed it back. Took a drag. Mark was silent on Nicky's other side. “What are we talking about?”

“Lads.” Anto. He was looking annoyed. “You aren't doing that where everyone can see are you? There's paps here.” He crossed his arms. Mark was already stubbing his out. Bryan was protesting.

“But I just lit it...”

“And you'll just put it out.” He reached out. “Confiscating those. You can ask for them back after class.”

“Sir...” Nicky whined. Mark was beginning to laugh. Bryan was sulking, though he stubbed his as well. Nicky did the same. Handed over his packet. “We're not getting detention are we? It was just a laugh.”

“Go back inside,” Anto chuckled. “Louis wants some group photos.” He tucked the packet into his pocket. Nicky suspected there'd be at least one gone when he got them back. Anto wasn't opposed to a cheeky smoke after hours himself.

They trudged back inside, were corralled to a spot near a flower display. Mark slid in beside him, and when he did, Nicky felt an arm slip around his waist.

He looked up. Caught a shy smile.

He nodded back and turned towards the camera.

  
  


*

  
  


“What about him?”

“Cute, not my type.” Nicky stretched. Beautiful day. The sun was bright, the private patio enclosed enough to keep out prying eyes but open enough for a beautiful view of the sea. It sparkled. Spun through with white breakers that rippled into diamond sand.

They'd arrived in Teneriffe a few hours before. Mark and Nicky had gone for a nap, the others to explore, and when he'd woken it hadn't been long before Mark had been knocking on his door and asking if he wanted to come hang out while they waited for dinner.

There was a full day of filming ahead tomorrow. Nicky was just glad for the rest. For the company. It was a rare moment they didn't have to be somewhere.

“Him?”

“Mm...” Nicky peered at the open pages of the Hello! Mark was leafing through on the lounger beside him. Hot men of some reality show or other. This one was wearing not much but a yellow hard-hat and holding a power drill. “Nice eyes. What's it say?”

“James, 33. Construction worker from Bristol. Likes action movies but a romantic at heart.”

“Wouldn't kick him out of bed.”

Mark gave a nervous laugh beside him. The last few months had been interesting. Mark had kept the secret without being asked, though Nicky wasn't sure it technically _was_ a secret. He was sweet about it. Asked blushing questions when they were alone that only helped to remind Nicky how naïve he was, growing up in the countryside. Like Nicky was some new species he didn't know how to catalogue yet.

“That's your type?”

“Not sure I have a type.” Mark held out the packet. Nicky waved it away. No. He'd been doing it too much. Had started to want one during the in-between times when he'd promised himself it wouldn't turn into a habit. It was a break though. A moment outside and away from all the stress, and there was certainly a lot of that lately.

“Quitting?”

“Cutting back.” Mark paused, cigarette halfway out of the box, and pushed it back in. “Really?”

“Should do the same. I've been chaining.”

“Stress?”

“Mm.” Mark nodded. “Or... not stress exactly, but it breaks up the day.”

“Know the feeling.” Nicky turned onto his side to peer at the pages Mark was turning. “I think my type used to be boys that took me out of my comfort zone, if you know what I mean?”

“Not really.”

“Like...” He rolled his eyes. It already sounded silly. “I'd always do stupid things for boys. Like, pretend to be someone I wasn't? Which is ridiculous I know but it was exciting. Not bad boys. But just... boys who did things. When they were good at something or knew all about something or were braver than me.”

“That doesn't sound like you.”

“You'd be surprised,” Nicky chuckled. “Maybe because I didn't know what to do after football. Even if it was something stupid it was comforting, thinking they had more figured out than me, even if it was something I didn't care about. Maybe I was looking for an identity.”

“Oh.” Mark nodded. “I get that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean... the thing about Sligo is you always know who you're going to be, right? Like, I'd go to school and there were chores and church and then the singing happened and suddenly things just felt... different, like. Like I'd seen singers on the TV but until I saw Shane doing it onstage it didn't even occur to me that it was a real thing that people did. Like I'd felt different my entire life and then it just sort of clicked.”

“Different is good.”

“Depends on what kind of different.”

“True.” Nicky yawned. “Still, can't be doing much wrong if we're here, can we?”

“S'pose not.” Mark hesitated, then reached for the cigarettes. “Shut up.”

“Didn't say anything.”

“I only started because Shane was doing it, then he quit and left me there like an eejit.”

“Typical Shane.” Nicky gestured at the page Mark was stopped on. “Now there's a bunch of good-looking lads.”

“Oh...” Mark looked down, laughed when he realised there was a small picture of them in the top corner. “Bet they're a nightmare in person.” He peered at the photo. “I look okay here, actually.” He glanced at Nicky. “You ever fancy any of us?”

“For a bit.” Mark's eyes widened. “You were new, I didn't know you yet. You hadn't all gotten on my tits. Now I can't stand any of you.”

“Ha.” Mark turned a page. Then another. Silence reigned except for the distant rushing of the waves and the call of gulls, the soft ripple of cigarette paper burning away. “Who was it?” he said finally.

“If I tell you, you won't unknow it,” Nicky warned. Mark shrugged.

“Doesn't matter now, does it?”

“Suppose not.” He reached for a cigarette himself. “You,” he admitted. There was no reply. When he looked up Mark was going bright red. “Sorry.”

“I just... honestly I thought it was going to be Shane.”

“Oh, he's cute too, but...” Nicky sighed. Mark was giving him that face, and this was why he'd kept it to himself. It was always that thing, of wondering if your bandmate was fancying you behind your back. People were always fine with it until they had to share a room with you. “I didn't mean to make things weird. I shouldn't have said anything.”

“Why me?”

“Why not you?”

Mark shrugged. “I was pretty tragic back then. The hair alone...”

“Still you, aren't you?” Nicky pointed out. “It wasn't the hair. It was just you. You were cute and you were always really nice to me. I'm not saying it was love, but yeah, I noticed.” He realised Mark was biting his lip, looking almost pleased with himself. “I always like a boy who's out of my league, remember?”

“You're out of _my_ league!” Mark protested. Nicky raised an eyebrow. “You know what I mean,” he mumbled, then put his cigarette in his mouth before any more words could come out of it. “Shut up.”

“Didn't say anything,” Nicky chuckled. There was a smile around the edges of the filter. “Really? Shane?”

“You're best friends.”

“He threw up in the hood of my jacket.”

“Quality night.”

“Yeah.” Nicky snorted. “Well, he's not you.” Mark was almost grinning, which was not an awful sign. “You can hang onto that one if you like.”

“Oh, I'm going to.”

“Good.” They smiled at each other warily.

“Good,” Mark murmured.

  
  


*

  
  


“Walk of shame!”

“Yeah, fuck off.” Nicky tossed a cushion at Kian's head. It appeared the others had been up for a while now, chilling on the bus and waiting for him to arrive. He hadn't been to bed. Not to his own, anyway, and certainly not to sleep.

“Can see if we've got one of those ring cushions to sit on?”

“I'll be fine, thank you.” He rolled his eyes. Kian and Bryan were giggling. Shane was snorting laughter into his hands. “You're all terrible people.”

“Is it love? Just... judging from the bite on your neck,” Bryan teased.

“Why do I tell you lot anything?”

“You didn't have to. The way you were throwing yourself at that lad was beyond words,” Kian pointed out. Nicky crossed his arms. He was asleep on his feet, but there was no way he was showing weakness. Not when they were laughing together like three children.

And Mark, smirking quietly at the other end of the sofa.

“Feehily? Anything you want to add?”

“None of my business,” he said. Nicky nodded back gratefully. He'd been worried when he'd finally told the other lads, hadn't expected the worst part to be the sheer amount of ribbing he'd get every time he snuck off.

Mark was always kind to him, though.

“I'm going to get some sleep.” He sidled past, toward the rear of the bus. “We're rolling soon?”

“Just waiting for you.”

“You can stop waiting.” He collapsed into a bunk. Was drifting, blanket over his head, when he felt the rumble of the engine, the first tilt of movement.

He slept. Woke to the midday sun and soft conversation floating through from the sitting area.

He peeked out from under the blanket. Mark was laid across from him on his stomach, a book on the pillow in front of him and headphones in.

“Morning,” Nicky croaked. Mark didn't notice. He waved, smiled when he caught Mark's attention.

“Hi.” He tugged out an earbud. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks.” He yawned. “Where are we?”

“Two hours from Los Angeles.”

“Cool.” He started at a sudden loud grind from the engine, then an angry pop. Mark was already half off his bed in alarm. From the other room he head Bryan swear.

They slowed, then stopped.

“Right, everyone off!” Anto called.

“Do I have time to put on clothes?” Nicky called back. It appeared he did. He shrugged a pair of jeans over his boxers then stumbled last off the bus, squinting in the bright desert sun. Cactuses decorated the landscape. The road was a mirage.

It was shite, honestly.

Anto was on the phone. The driver was lifting the smoking hood of the bus.

“Suppose we're here for a bit.” Mark patted his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Bryan was doing the same. Shane and Kian were both rolling their eyes. Nicky hesitated.

“Throw me one.”

“Thought you quit?”

“Desperate times.” Mark handed it over, then lit it for him. “We could die out here. Vultures picking our bones.”

“Well, at least they'll have that delicious smoky taste,” Bryan pointed out.

“You lot want to do that over there?”

“Shit, Shane, are we in too confined a space for you?” Bryan gestured around at the empty desert. “Fuck off.”

“I didn't mean...”

“Yeah, whatever.” He stomped off around the other side of the bus. They all watched him go.

“What did I say?” Shane asked nervously. Kian shook his head.

“Don't mind him, he's been in a mood.” He had been. They all knew it. Not that any of them were innocent of it. This America trip had not been a rousing success. Frayed tempers and exhaustion simmering in the close quarters on the bus.

It seemed prudent to step aside after all that. They found a spot at the edge of the road where there were a few rocks of the right height and sank down to take in the show. The bus had stopped smoking at least. Nicky took a drag as Anto hung up the phone and began to dial again.

“What do you think?” Mark said finally.

“Think Anto'll tell us when it's sorted out.” Their eyes both followed a tumbleweed that bounced past. “Huh. Thought those were just in cartoons.”

“Maybe this is a cartoon.”

“I'll get an anvil and we'll find out,” Nicky suggested. Mark snorted.

“Who you going to drop it on? Bryan?”

“He's in a mood. It'll wear off.” He looked at the cigarette between his fingers. “Never tastes like you remember.”

“No?”

“Mm.” He watched Mark puff a clumsy ring. “When you figure out how to do that?”

“While ago.”

“Oh.” That was the thing about quitting. They spent time together, of course, but not like they had done. He'd stopped going outside with Mark. Knew he'd be back on them like a shot if they did that. “Teach me?” Mark raised an eyebrow. “Always looking for new ways to use my mouth.”

“Judging from last night I don't think you need them,” Mark teased. Nicky winked. “You kind of have to...” He lifted the cigarette, made an 'o' with his lips, then broke into laughter. “Hold it in your throat I guess?”

“No comment,” Nicky chuckled.

“Then you just move your tongue out of the way and kinda...” Both of them were giggling. “Ah fuck, apparently you don't need teaching.”

“Always willing to take tips from the expert.”

“Mm.” Mark blew another gentle ring. Nicky watched it float away. “I should probably quit too, to be honest. It's a bit of a pointless habit.” He snuck a look at Nicky. “We could both pretend to still smoke and just hang out anyway. Like, if you need an excuse to get away.”

“That'd be nice,” Nicky murmured. Mark was biting his lip and he'd never looked more beautiful, pale skin going sun-scorched and sweaty in the desert sun. “Um.” He looked away. Easier not to look, or he was going to stare. He didn't need to stare. Not when he'd spent three years kicking this pointless habit of appreciating Mark more than was sensible.

But god...

“We should head to shade.” Nicky flicked his butt, gaze drawn automatically back when Mark did the same. “You're starting to burn.”

“Don't want to ruin the money-maker,” Mark joked. He touched his cheeks gingerly. “Um.” He peeked sideways at Nicky. “You'd never tell anyone what we talk about right? On our smoke breaks?”

“Course not.” It had never even occurred to him. These moments weren't for anyone else. Maybe they never said anything truly secret, but there was a tone. A vulnerability that he'd been missing lately. “You didn't tell anyone about me, right?”

“That wasn't for me to say.”

“I appreciated it." He stood. Reached a hand to offer Mark too. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I know.” Mark smiled shyly. “Um.” He hesitated. “Can-”

They were interrupted by a whoop, then the rumble of the engine starting up. Bryan was already climbing back on the bus. The hood slammed closed.

“We're back on the road!” Anto called.

Mark stalked off toward the bus, head down.

Nicky followed.

  
  


*

  
  


If Nicky didn't know better he'd think Mark was trying to cockblock him.

“Smoke?”

“Er...” He tore his eyes away from the lad pressed handily against his side and leading entirely with his bulge. “Hm?”

“If you're busy...”

“Little bit.” Mark was biting his lip. This wasn't the first time he'd been interrupted in the last few weeks. A break in the night air was all well and good but when he was trying to get his rocks off it didn't really fit in with his schedule. “Meet you out there?” Mark nodded and wandered off. “Sorry, what were we doing?”

“Heading back to mine?”

“Is that so?” Nicky teased. The lad was kissing up his throat. Fuck he loved America. “How far?”

“Two blocks.”

“That's close.”

“It is.” A hand closed over his crotch, making him moan. It was swallowed by a hard kiss. When it broke Nicky was dazed and irresponsibly hard. “Er. Let me just...” He extricated himself slightly, waved at Shane, and told him he'd be back in the morning and not to worry. When he turned around his jeans were half undone.

“Ready?”

“So ready.” Nicky kissed him again. “You lead.” They pushed through the club, found the exit. Banged outside, laughing. Mark looked up in surprise, cigarette already in one hand. Not doing as good a job of quitting as either of them had hoped, but oh well, there were stumbles.

He opened his mouth to say something. Closed it when he realised Nicky was being dragged.

“Er... raincheck?” Nicky said helplessly. They stared at each other for a long, silent moment. Then Mark nodded, dropped his cigarette, and ground it out with a savage twist of his ankle.

Two hours later, limping slightly, he slunk back into the hotel and took the lift up. Not individual rooms, not this time, though almost as good. More like a dorm-room,with a large sitting area leading into separate bedrooms. It was nice, in a way, gave them their own space and somewhere to hang out. Like the old days, squashed into twin beds in three-star hotels, friends at a mad slumber party.

The place was empty and dark. Everyone else still at the club obviously. He stripped off to his boxers in his room then went out to sit in the living area, glad to have some time by himself.

A tiny glow from the balcony. He turned. Realised Mark was out there, leaned on the railing.

“Hey,” Nicky murmured round the sliding door. Mark looked up. Didn't look surprised. He'd obviously realised Nicky was in when he'd turned the light on. Nicky wondered why he hadn't said anything. “Take you up on that raincheck?”

“You don't have to,” Mark said softly. He looked upset. Lost. Nicky rested a hand on his shoulder, felt it stiffen.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. No.” He bit his lip. “You know when everything just...” A long sigh. Nicky let his hand stroke across to the other shoulder, started a swooping rhythm. Mark always did it to him when he was stressed, so there had to be something in it.

“I didn't mean to blow you off.”

“It's fine. I didn't mean to interrupt.” His head tilted forward to allow Nicky's touch. “I don't know.” The tip glowed again.

“What don't you know?”

“What's wrong with me lately?”

“Is there something wrong with you?”

“Yes. Maybe. Or not. It's...” His eyes drifted shut. “Oh god, that's better.”

“Yeah?” Nicky stopped at the back of his neck to squeeze. Mark groaned softly. Nicky was very glad he'd just cum. Which was not an appropriate thought to have when Mark was obviously going through something. “Take off your jacket if you like.”

He felt Mark hesitate. Wondered if he'd said the wrong thing. Then Mark nodded, began to shrug out of his sleeves. It went on the chair nearby. Nicky moved in behind him, settling hands on his shoulders.

“Tell me where it's good.”

“Yeah.” He felt Mark shudder when he pressed his thumbs in. “There's nice.”

“Cool.” He wished he hadn't started. Maybe it was the vodka earlier but he had a terrible impulse to kiss the back of Mark's neck. “Maybe we could do this instead of smoking? Massage breaks.”

“If the band doesn't work out we could open a day-spa?”

“Always thinking ahead. That's what I like about you.” He felt Mark snort a laugh. “They're never as exciting as you think, to be honest. Lots of mud and old naked guys.”

“I've never been to one.”

“That's because you've got me.”

“The old naked guys sound interesting.”

“War stories and saggy balls. You're not missing much.” Mark's shoulders were shaking under his touch.

“Haven't you seen enough balls tonight?”

“It's still early.” He ran a teasing touch down between Mark's shoulder blades, then, on impulse, leaned in to wrap both arms around his friend. “You don't have to talk about it,” he murmured. Expected Mark to pull away, but instead hands clasped over his and squeezed. “But I'll always listen.”

“Thanks.” Barely a whisper. Nicky let go. Was about to go back to rubbing Mark's shoulders but instead Mark turned around. He looked tired. Nicky took his hand again, between both of his. Mark's other settled on top.

He breathed out.

Mark kissed him.

Light. Their hands still a barrier in the middle, clasped in a ball, and Nicky craning up and forward to meet it. Not breathing. Not moving. A mouth pressed to his and their eyes closed and pulse tangling in their shared grip.

It broke. Mark licked his lips experimentally. Nicky blinked back.

“I should go to bed,” Mark said. He was going red. Nicky nodded helplessly.

“If... yeah. If that's what you want.” Mark grimaced. “Should we talk about this?”

“Raincheck?”

Nicky nodded. Maybe that was a good idea.

“Raincheck,” he agreed.

  
  


*

  
  


“You're quiet.”

Nicky shrugged. It was late and they'd been on this stupid press junket all day. Shane was asleep on the other sofa in the green room, though he'd have to be woken up to fix his hair in the next five minutes. Mark was kicking intently at the carpet, kept shaking himself, frowning, then pacing until he couldn't be bothered any more.

“Tired.”

“Know the feeling.” Kian patted his knee. “It'll be over soon.”

“Suppose.” He sighed. “Why did Bryan get to go home sick?”

“Because he had the flu?”

“Should've kept him around longer. Maybe he could have given it to the rest of us.”

“We can only dream.” They gave each other knowing smirks. “It's not too bad with just four, I suppose.”

“Definitely quieter,” Nicky agreed. He yawned. Mark covered one of his own on the other side of the room. “I'm going to pop outside. Get some fresh air.”

“Thought you quit?”

“I did. Just hoping the cold'll wake me up.” He forced himself up off the sofa. Maybe he was getting a touch of Bryan's flu himself. Or maybe it was just exhaustion. It probably didn't matter. They couldn't all piss off home to bed-rest.

The wind snapped hard at his cheeks when he pushed outside and kicked a brick over to hold the fire-escape door open. Eleven o'clock at bloody night on some shite live TV show. He wrapped his coat around himself. It was mostly costume, not actually made for holding out the weather on a concrete courtyard five storeys up. Matching piece of tat so they could all look pretty and coordinated. He wanted to tear it off and throw it into traffic.

There was a creak behind him. The fire-escape door opening again. The grind of the brick being put back into place. He knew the footsteps without looking. Closed his eyes when arms wrapped around him from behind.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Nothing to say.” His hands covered Mark's. Two weeks since that awkward kiss. Flights and hotel rooms and interviews and too little sleep. Like it had never happened. A weird moment in the endless parade of bullshittery. “I'm just...” He closed his eyes at the hot rush of breath on the back of his neck.

“Anything I can do?”

“Just hold me,” Nicky decided. Mark was silent, but he moved closer. Pressed warm against him. Strong and soft and for a moment everything was better, in a way that made his throat thicken and his eyes well with tears.

“We could still open that day spa?” Nicky let out a broken laugh, heard a warm snicker in return. “Old man balls.”

“If that's my new nickname I'm quitting tonight.”

“It suits you,” Mark teased. Nicky let out a breath. Felt them breath together. Twin puffs of swelling mist that scattered in the icy wind. “If we stay out here long enough maybe I can catch the flu.”

“You promise to give it to me?”

“Only if you do the same.” He stiffened when he felt lips pass over his neck. Wondered for a moment if it had just been Mark moving, the awkward closeness. The hands on his tightened. They both breathed out again, a shuddering rush. Nicky stifled a giggle in his scarf. “Think it'll snow this Christmas?”

“If we're lucky.” Nicky closed his eyes again. Easier like this. He turned sideways, wanting to feel more of the man behind him. The arms resettled. One around his waist. The other still clasped with his, tucked into his coat and nestled to his heart. He leaned his head on Mark's shoulder. Felt lips touch to his forehead.

“Do you still fancy me?” Mark said nervously.

“Yeah,” Nicky breathed. The arm around his waist tightened. “Tell me what you want.”

“I don't know.” Mark was still kissing his face. Nicky tilted up to intercept it. Groaned when they connected. When he felt a hot mouth seal to his, a bright spot in the cold night. His hand settled on Mark's cheek. Almost numb from the cold and he felt a flinch when they connected but he didn't _care_. Not when Mark was tilting too hungrily, wrapping him up safe in the howling wind.

Melting into it. Into the distant smoky taste on his tongue, the tang of his aftershave. Needing _more._

Clanging on the ladder. They yanked apart. Mark started to fumble out a cigarette, cheeks red. Nicky couldn't stop grinning.

“Lads, we're on in ten.”

“Coming,” Nicky called. Kian stomped off back down the stairs. “Don't think you have time.”

“Probably not.” Mark pushed it back into the packet. “Er.” He smiled shyly at Nicky. “That was nice.”

“Yeah.” The cold was a distant memory. “Well.” He gestured toward the door. “After you.”

  
  


*

  
  


“Fuck – unh...” Nicky gasped. Twisted. Couldn't move for the hands on his waist holding him steady. Didn't want to. Not with Mark's hips hammering. Yanking him down onto every reckless thrust. He grabbed the bedhead. Arched over him in a strung cord of cross-eyed pleasure.

“God that's it.” It was breathless. Mark's hair was floppy with sweat. Nicky wanted to touch him. Couldn't. Caught here and just trying to hang on.

He whined instead. Panted while dark eyes flicked up to watch him. Down to watch them. Slamming together and Mark's red face going hard with concentration. His mouth caught in a desperate 'o'.

“You'd better be about to come again,” he said roughly. Nicky laughed.

“Fill me up then we can worry about it.” He squeezed his eyes shut when Mark hit the spot. “Jesus Christ.” His hands tightened on the bedhead. “Oh Jesus Mark that's it I can't...” Jolting down. Slamming up. Fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

Mark grunted. Nicky's thighs ached. He wasn't stopping. Not for anything. A hand tangled hard in his hair, making him cry out. They ground together one last time. Held while Mark mashed their lips together and fucked into him. Let him collapse. Until they were a clenched knot of limbs and Nicky was holding him through the last electric jolts of orgasm.

He rolled off, groaning. Mark rolled on top. Sucked at his ear, a delirious nuzzle; the faint snap of the condom coming off. Nicky pressed sloppy lips to his forehead and tried to breathe.

He was drawn into another kiss as a hand wrapped around him. Shivering and hot. Mark smelled of sex. Sweat. Desperate kisses they'd managed when they'd finally fallen into a hotel room at five in the afternoon.

“Like that?”

“Like that,” Nicky heaved. Mark kissed him again. Caressed him. “Just like that.”

He came in Mark's arms. Wrapped in each other. Licking sweat off a heaving shoulder and Mark's hand cradling his arse.

“That deserves a smoke,” Mark said finally, when Nicky was busy drifting off. He smirked. Rubbed his nose into Mark's jaw. A tender kiss caressed his temple.

“Suppose I could just have one.” Neither of them moved. “Can I just say that sex with you might be my favourite hobby?”

“Just a hobby?”

“No.” He smiled. Fingers soothed through his hair. “I'd take it on full time if I could. Wouldn't even take payment.”

“Oh, now I'm a charity?”

“Shut up.” Mark snorted against his forehead.

“Didn't say anything.”

“Likely story.” Nicky breathed him in. “Please don't go.”

“I have to. I have my own room.”

“You got up early tomorrow to visit me. Went to bed and everything.”

“Nicky...”

“I know,” he sighed. Mark was still stroking his hair. “Keeping distance. For the band. We don't want to let our stupid personal lives affect things.” Mark didn't reply. Probably for the best. Nicky suspected he was trying to start a fight, and Mark knew better than anyone that it was just easier to let him sulk into the void than try to argue. “It's only been a couple of months anyway. I wouldn't want to get serious about it.”

He was still pouting when Mark extricated himself, reached for his robe, and went to the balcony.

Nicky joined him not long after. Dubai was hot, but a blessing after the cold snaps in Ireland. Two weeks after Christmas. He suspected the worst was still yet to come.

Mark lit a cigarette for him.

“Nice night.”

“Yeah.” High enough up nobody could possibly see. Still bright, though the sun had set. Too many lights. The air was warm and wet, clung to his skin. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a shit to you.”

“It's fine. I get it.” Mark looked down. Nicky chose not to. He wasn't afraid of heights, but this place was genuinely ridiculous. There'd be no point even trying the stairs. He'd still be climbing them next week when they checked out.

The lift ride had been too long. Mark had held his hand.

“You're not ready.”

“It's not just that. I just don't want things to change. Not yet.” He tapped over the edge and Nicky watched ash flutter away to disappear into the sky. “Let's make sure we're on solid ground before we do anything rash.”

“We're about three-hundred storeys up.”

“You know what I mean.” Nicky nodded. He did. “It's not that I don't have feelings for you. You know I do. It's just a lot. For me.” His pinky brushed Nicky's on the railing. “This is the most me I've ever felt in my life. Thanks to you.”

“Oh.” He plugged his smile with the cigarette, knew Mark had seen it anyway. “Well... you're welcome.” The horizon was an unnatural gold. He focused on it. Wasn't sure why he was emotional exactly. The orgasms probably weren't helping. Mark certainly had a knack for wringing them out.

“It's like when we'd sneak off on smoke breaks. And we'd talk and stuff.”

“We still do that.”

“We pretend to and make out in the toilets instead.”

“Yeah,” Nicky chuckled. They weren't that bad, but the smoke breaks had definitely dropped off. It felt almost incriminating now, which was ridiculous. They'd always done it. It was their time together. “We'll never stop talking though?”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I don't know.” It all felt too heavy. Fraught with double meaning. “It's only early. You can stay for a bit, can't you?”

“I can stay for a bit.” Mark butted his smoke and headed back to the doors. “Still got at least one left in me.”

“Do you want to just...” Nicky hesitated. “You wanna just watch TV or something? We can snuggle and order room service.”

“We can do that too.” Mark reached out. Nicky fell into his arms as they passed over the threshold. “I'm always there for you, Nico. That's never changed.” A kiss touched to his temple. Nicky relaxed, not sure what he'd been upset about. “Split a pizza?”

“Pepperoni?”

“Anything you want.” Mark kissed him again and let go. “You call. I need a shower.” He wandered off, leaving Nicky stood in the living space, sticky and vaguely lost. The water started running in the other room.

He put down the phone and went to join Mark instead.

  
  


*

  
  


“No, you've got to...” Mark's voice flattened as he tried to show Nicky what he was doing with his tongue. “Then you just kind of... like, it's not even a breath. More like a whisper? You have to...”

“Keep doing that with your mouth and someone's going to put a dick in it.”

“We can only hope,” Mark teased. Nicky elbowed him. Four in the morning. They'd not gone to sleep yet. “It was a really nice day.”

“It was.” The balcony was enclosed enough that nobody could see them. Not like this, squashed in the same chair in a hotel in Mayo, Nicky cuddled into his chest. The stars hadn't gone yet, but the moon had set. The sun was only a whisper away. The reception was no longer raging, but it was certainly sputtering in small clusters of merriment through the hotel. There'd be a lot of sore heads in the morning. Gillian and Shane had snuck off twice then come back looking very pleased with themselves. Nicky had stumbled back to his room an hour or so before, Mark trailing along to prop him up.

“Can't believe they're married.”

“I can. They've only been together three hundred years,” Nicky chuckled. Mark snorted. “Must be nice. Like when you know someone's the only person in the whole world for you.”

A possessive kiss pressed hard to his forehead. Fingers sifted through his hair. There was silence, for a bit, their breathing filling the space.

When the sun rose Mark had nodded off. Nicky kissed him gently awake.

“Bed?”

Mark mumbled agreement. Nicky pried the half-smoked cigarette from his fingers, dropped it in the ashtray, then stood up. Pulled Mark up with him.

They rolled together without thinking. Arms settled around his waist, Mark's front moulding to his back in a perfect press of connection. For a moment he wanted to cry. Mark was already asleep.

“I love you,” Nicky whispered.

“Mm?” A grunt. Nicky shook his head.

“Nothing,” he murmured back. “Go to sleep.”

  
  


*

  
  


They were all sat at Nicky's place, heads in hands, when Mark silently stood and went to the patio.

None of them commented. There was no point. Kian had barely stopped crying. Shane just kept sitting. Getting up and pacing and sitting again. Throwing himself into chairs like he was testing if they'd still hold his weight, because something had to. Something had to be fucking dependable enough to do at least that.

Nicky wanted to hit something. Bryan, mostly. Get the fucking boots Bryan had hung up and beat him with them.

He wanted to sleep. Wanted arms around him and someone to say it was going to be okay.

Mark came back in after a while. Sat back down. Somebody suggested dinner, though Nicky couldn't say who it was and none of them were interested. Kian took a phone call that was brief and clipped. Shane disappeared into the kitchen for twenty minutes then came back with red eyes and clenched fists.

Mark got up again and wandered down the hall. Nicky heard the sliding door to the garden shuffle open then click shut again.

“Want to see a trick?” Nicky said, when he joined him. Mark had been stood near the door, staring at his shoes, though he'd looked up.

“Is it the one where this turns out to be a nightmare?”

“Out of my league.” He reached out and lifted Mark's cigarette from his lips. “Ready?” Mark nodded, then laughed when Nicky carefully puffed out a perfect, spreading ring of smoke. “Ta-da!”

“Impressive.”

“I thought so.” He handed it back. “I'm really sorry. I know you were close.”

“Doesn't stand for much now, does it?”

“Don't suppose it does.” Nicky touched his hand. Felt it draw away. He didn't comment. There was no point. Things were shit and nothing made sense. “Shane's gonna crash here tonight. You want to stay as well?”

“I think I just want to be by myself.”

“Fair enough.” Tried not to be stung. Was disappointed instead. He just wanted Mark. Something to salve the pieces he was trying to hold together.

“It's not you, I'm just...”

“I get it.”

“You do, don't you?” Mark murmured. Nicky nodded. Took his hand. This time Mark squeezed back before letting go.

“I'm in love you,” Nicky said.

Mark froze. Cigarette between his fingers and growing a column of ash that tilted when Mark pulled it silently back to his lips. Nicky's heart slammed in his ears.

“I'd better say goodbye to the others,” Mark mumbled.

The door slid shut behind him.

  
  


*

  
  


“Mark?”

“What are you doing up?” Mark scolded. Nicky scowled. Wiped his nose on his sleeve. The balcony door had been open when he'd woken, Mark missing, and so he'd gotten up to investigate. Mark pressed his cigarette into the ashtray on the table next to him. “Back to bed.”

“But...”

“Nicholas...” It was stern. Nicky managed a cough of annoyance when arms wrapped around him and he was turned, pushed forward toward the bed. He stumbled slightly. Grumbled. Soon he was back in the safety of his duvet.

“I feel better.”

“No you don't.” A gentle hand brushed sweaty hair back from his forehead. He closed his eyes. Shivered. Too cold even in the warm bedroom. “You're running a fever. I'm going to get you some more tablets and a cup of soup.” Nicky whined. Stopped when his throat started to hurt. “Poor thing,” Mark muttered, and the affection in his voice was almost enough to make Nicky smile.

“You didn't have to come round.”

“Who else was going to take care of you?”

“I'm glad you did.”

“I know.” Nicky reached for him. “Not a chance. Just because I like you it doesn't mean I'm catching the flu.”

“Fine,” Nicky sighed. Like. He'd noticed of course. Had gotten used to it, or at least made enough peace that he didn't have to think about it. He'd blurted his stupid heart out in a moment of weakness and Mark hadn't said it back. Still hadn't said it back, six months on. Almost a year since that kiss on the fire-escape patio and...

They didn't talk about it. Not really. Didn't really talk at all.

Mark cared about him. It was enough.

“Small kiss?”

“No,” Mark chuckled. “But once you're better I'll snog the life out of you.” Nicky grinned weakly. “Soup?”

“Yeah.” Nicky sniffled. “Can I have toast?”

“You can have toast.” Mark stroked his hair playfully. “Still gorgeous, even if you're a mess.” He winked. “Back in a minute.”

Nicky must have nodded off, because when he opened his eyes the balcony door was open again and there was a bowl beside his bed. He could see Mark through the glass. Watched through slitted eyes. The slouch of him in the chair. The casual back and forth of his hand to his mouth. He looked calm. Thoughtful. Ran a hand through his hair then put out the butt.

“Hey,” Nicky croaked. Mark sat down beside him on the bed. “How long was I asleep?”

“Not long.” Mark dipped a finger in the soup. “Still warm. Want some?”

“Will you feed it to me?” Mark opened his mouth, looking ready to protest that Nicky wasn't a baby and could probably do it himself. Then his eyes softened and he picked up the bowl. “I don't feel well.”

“I know.” Mark scooped up a mouthful. “Here comes the airplane.”

“It's a spaceship.”

“Sorry.” Mark snorted, then navigated it down to press to his mouth. Nicky slurped it up gratefully. Chicken noodle. Just cool enough to go down easy. Mark dipped the spoon back into the bowl. “Here comes the spaceship.”

“Thank you.” He accepted another mouthful. “Mark?”

“Mm?”

“You don't have to love me back.” The spoon stopped mid-air. “It's okay. I get it.”

“I never said I don't,” Mark murmured. The spoon clattered against the edge when Mark slipped it back into the bowl and let go.

“So you do, then?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Nico...” He sighed, put down the bowl. “Why can't it just be like this? What's wrong with this? I care about you. I came over to take care of you. We have a good time and...”

“Where's the part where we're not just friends?”

“We _are_ friends. That doesn't...” A hand settled on Nicky's wrist. He shifted it away. “There's a lot going on as it is. Why do you want to complicate it?”

“Complicate...” Nicky barked a hoarse laugh. “It _is_ complicated. We're sneaking around and pretending we haven't been sleeping together almost a year. What's not complicated about that?”

“What do you suggest?”

“I...” Come out. Make it official. Do a goddamn Hello! spread. Plaster it across the sky so that nobody could say he wasn't Mark's and Mark wasn't his. I love you. I fucking... “...don't know.” He bit his lip. “I just...” He sniffed. “What are we doing, then?”

“I'm not sure,” Mark murmured. He blurred with tears. Nicky looked away. “Do you want some more soup?”

“I can do it myself.” He picked up the bowl, scooped a defiant spoonful into his mouth. Then another. Mark watched with flat eyes. Nicky put the bowl down, finally, too exhausted to continue. “I'm going to get some sleep. You can go if you want.”

“Do you want me to?” Nicky shrugged savagely. “I'll stay then.” A hand covered his. “Nicky?”

“What?”

“You look like shit.” He smirked. Nicky growled back. Got a grin that made his heart leap.

“Fuck you too,” he muttered. Mark pulled him into a firm hug he couldn't help but cling to. “Love you,” he breathed.

“I know,” Mark whispered back. “Get some sleep.”

  
  


*

  
  


“Popping out.”

Mark's departure received distracted waves. Nicky stifled a sneeze when the powder brush flicked past his nose, got a nod from the girl plastering him with makeup. Beside him Shane closed his eyes against a blast of hair-spray. He felt like he'd been lacquered. That was the problem with stage lights. At least half of it was going to melt off before the concert was done.

“Not going with him?” Kian asked.

“Bit busy,” Nicky chuckled. Shane stood up, was replaced by Kian. “Ah Shane, it's almost like you're good-looking. Top work, love.”

“Still some work to go on you,” Shane retorted. Nicky stuck out his tongue. He looked rather fantastic, if he did say so himself. Mark had been giving him admiring glances all afternoon. He was done a moment later, pushed out and went to sit nearby to wait.

Shane sank down beside him.

“Know why you're staying.”

“Oh yes?”

“You and that lad?” Nicky raised an eyebrow, not sure where Shane was going with this. Mark had a name after all. “Oh, come on. The one in wardrobe. You've been flirting all tour.”

“Have we?” Nicky glanced over. Jack was a friendly enough guy. And you had talk to someone else while you were on the road, otherwise you'd go mad. They'd spent a few hours kicking a ball around the day before, and he was good for passing on the match scores in between costume changes.

Jack must have caught them watching, because he paused, tipped a wave. Nicky waved back, not wanting him to think they'd been staring. When he looked back Shane was smirking.

“There's nothing happening.”

“You've been single for ages,” Shane commented. Nicky shrugged. “Remember when you used to be off every night.

“We all get older,” Nicky pointed out.

“Sounds like you're settling down.”

“Definitely not doing that,” he chuckled. Mark pushed back through the door, settled into Nicky's vacant seat, and smiled when the makeup girl came over to paint him. Not that he needed any help looked gorgeous.

“You don't want to?”

“What?”

“Settle down.”

“Oh... er. Yeah. Suppose so. One day.” If Mark could hear he didn't respond, though Nicky could hear Kian mumbling while he tried to keep his face straight and talk to Liv at the same time. “Things are a bit manic at the moment.”

“I'm married. Kian's got a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, but you don't have to tell the world you're straight,” Nicky chuckled.

“You've never thought about it?”

“I have. I guess it doesn't feel relevant right now. I've never had trouble finding hookups and it's not like it's a secret as such.” He glanced at Mark in the mirror, though there was no response there. “Maybe if I had a boyfriend or something.”

“Do you want one?”

“As a pet?” Nicky teased. “No. I don't know. Or... yes, if I found someone. It's not just any boyfriend I want. And until the right one comes along I'm fine just being me on my own.”

“That's not lonely?”

“It has its perks.” A smile darted at him through the mirror. Nicky returned it. “I'm okay.”

“I didn't say you weren't.”

“I know.” He turned his attention back to Shane. There was no point looking at Mark. Not when he was sitting there silent.

The whole thing was interrupted by Jack waving him over. Nicky stood.

“Looks like there's your opening,” Shane teased. “Think he's the one?”

“One way to find out,” Nicky joked. He touched Mark on the shoulder on the way past. His sleeve had been getting caught for the last two nights. Jack had promised to touch it up for him. He was on his way when he heard Mark whisper behind him.

“What was that about?”

“Just doing some matchmaking,” Shane chuckled. “Want me to set you up next?”

“Er... no,” Mark laughed awkwardly. “Thanks.”

  
  


*

  
  


“Happy birthday to me...”

“Aren't I supposed to be singing it to you?”

“Your mouth's busy,” Nicky pointed out. A tongue lapped roughly up the side of him. He groaned. Hand tight around the root, Mark's other hand rolling his balls gently, playing him in just the way he liked. “Fuck.” His head tipped back as he was slowly engulfed, then let go, dragging sucks that made his thighs tense. The obscene hollow of Mark's cheeks was a joy.

He hit the back, felt himself go down. Pursed lips and the tight wrap of a throat, tongue out of the way to make space. Sobbed. Felt a gag, then was taken in again.

A laugh spilled out. Mark looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“Just...” He chuckled. “Blowing a smoke ring?” Mark began to draw off, already looking to retort. “Don't stop oh fuck,” he yelped when Mark drove back down. “Oh fuck.” His hands tangled in soft hair. “Oh f-f-”

He was panting when Mark finally let him go. Rolled onto his side and was covered a moment later by warm boy sucking musky kisses at his neck, groping at him. He groaned. Felt Mark press hard against his hip.

“I haven't blown your ring yet.”

“Do you hear yourself out loud?” Nicky chuckled. Mark nosed his shoulder bashfully.

“Had a good birthday so far?”

“Definitely been worse.” He closed his eyes. Felt Mark rest against him a moment. “When you said you were popping over with my present I expected a couple of DVDs or a bottle of wine.”

“Sorry to let you down.”

“You should be.” He shifted until he could nestle into Mark's chest. Looked down. Soft belly and hard cock, thighs curled up to hook around him. They fit together. His hand drifted down a long back.

“What did you want?”

“Just this.” He looked up. Dark eyes smiled at him. So soft and expressive it made his heart hurt.

“Glad you picked me.”

“Who else would I pick?”

“Dunno. That Jack guy, or...”

“Why would I pick him?” Mark shrugged.

“Shane said...”

“Shane said what?” Nicky pulled back. “Shane said we were fucking?” The reply stammered on Mark's lips. “And you didn't think to ask me?”

“I didn't think it was my business.”

“Didn't think...” He pushed away. Sat up to swing his legs off the side of the bed. Expected Mark to touch his back, try to call him back, but instead there was only still silence behind him. “You thought I was fucking someone else and it just wasn't a problem?”

“I didn't say that.”

“It was a problem you didn't want to talk about.”

“I didn't say that either. Nicky...”

“What _do_ you say?” Nicky snapped, turned. Mark was still laid there, propped on one elbow, casual as you please. “What the fuck do you say?”

“I don't...” His face was going red. He actually looked sorry. Nicky wasn't sure what about. “I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would. I didn't want to intrude.”

“Intr-” Nicky blurted a broken laugh. “Fuck.” He climbed off the bed. “Fuck.” He grabbed a robe. Stormed out onto the balcony. Mark's cigarettes from earlier were still out there. He had one lit and between his lips before he could think about it. Took a deep angry drag. “Fuck.” His laugh came out a ragged puff of smoke.

He was there a long time. Finished one then had the other lit. He felt queasy already. Wasn't sure if it was the cigarette after so long without or the confused hurt rising in his gut.

He was still glaring at the back fence when Mark silently slid out and lit a cigarette beside him.

“It wasn't that I don't care,” Mark said finally. Nicky shook his head. “I do care, Nico. But I know I haven't been able to give you what you want and I figured I didn't have a right to comment if you wanted to play around.”

“It's not commenting, it's...” Nicky sniffed. He wasn't going to cry. Was too angry not to. “It's talking. It's having a fucking conversation for five seconds. Like we used to.” His voice rose. He swallowed it back to a normal level. “We used to talk all the time. I thought we could talk about anything.”

“That was before.”

“Yeah. It was.” Nicky looked at the cigarette. “I love you,” he said. “Say it back.”

“Nicky...”

“Say it.” He looked at Mark. Pink cheeks and blue eyes and so much bullshit he couldn't breathe.

“Say it fucking back.”

“It's not that easy.”

“Why not?”

“Because... then we're together. And if we're together I have to-” Nicky's gaze narrowed. “I don't want to let you down,” Mark sighed. “I'll let you down. I'm not ready to be what you need me to be. It won't work out and then I'll have to break your heart and I can't _do_ that.”

“Thanks for trying to be _nice_ to me,” Nicky said flatly. Mark bit his lip. “Get out.”

“Nicky...”

“Get the fuck out,” Nicky growled. Mark was still staring at him. “Fine.” He screwed the cigarette out in the ashtray. Stared at it. A smouldering lump of debris. “Fuck it.” He hurled the whole thing over the edge. It smashed on the pavers below. “There.”

“What was that meant to be?”

Nicky shoved past him, back indoors.

“Quitting.” He grabbed Mark's clothes. Tossed them at him. Mark caught them awkwardly. “Get out.”

  
  


*

  
  


The meeting went well enough. Nicky left the way he always had after these things. Not sure if he should be proud they'd stood their ground, or if he had the sneaking suspicion they'd been played. Allowed to win on small issues so they'd agree on the big ones. On the upside, it was the last one before Christmas. A bit of a debrief, then off to spend time with their families.

“Drink?”

“...sure.” Nicky glanced at Mark, who shrugged. They hadn't spoken much the last two months. Not that things had been uncomfortable, or not so the others would notice. They'd been perfectly professional. It wasn't that hard. They were used to pretending to be normal around each other.

They found a spot outside in a beer garden. Signed a couple of autographs for the waitress. Shane nodded at them.

“You can smoke if you want.”

“No thanks,” Mark got there first. Shane tilted his head. “I'm quitting.”

“Again?”

“Ha.” Mark rolled his eyes, then pushed back his sleeve. A nicotine patch. Nicky blinked in surprise. “Actually quitting.”

“Well... congratulations!” Shane clapped him on the back. Kian raised his beer in their direction. “Explains why you've been a grumpy prick for the last few weeks. Nicky?”

“Yeah, I'm done too.” He hadn't picked one up since that afternoon. Had spent an hour picking up pieces of broken ceramic and vacuuming the pavers, swearing whenever the cord wouldn't quite reach through the patio door. He'd cried a bit. By the time it had been done and the bag emptied in the rubbish he'd felt almost better.

“Stupid habit anyway,” Kian agreed. “Don't know what you got out of it. Makes you stink and then you get sick. Fucking pointless.”

“Thanks for that,” Nicky chuckled. Mark was smirking into his beer.

“Seriously. You spend half your lives standing alone outside in the cold. Don't know how you stood it.”

“Years twirling on cliffs paid off,” Mark joked. Nicky laughed.

“And in carparks. On helipads...”

“Go any faster and we might take off.” They smirked at each other. A moment of unguarded laughter. When Nicky turned back to his beer he was still grinning stupidly. Kian thanked the waitress who brought their fries. Nicky reached for a handful.

“I remember quitting,” Shane said. “It wasn't easy, and only been doing it six months.” He nodded at Mark. “How you holding up?”

“Harder than I'd expected,” Mark mumbled. Then swallowed. “It's not the smoking so much. But like... you make habits around it, I guess? It's a nice way to unwind occasionally.”

“There's always drinking,” Kian pointed out. “Or sex.”

“I was thinking about asking out Jack in the wardrobe department,” Nicky blurted. They all looked at him in surprise. “I've still got his number and we got along.”

“I knew it!” Shane crowed. Nicky snuck a look at Mark. Got a fleeting smile he couldn't read. “Knew there was something going on.”

“There wasn't,” Nicky promised. “But... you know. Can't just spend my life waiting for someone to come along.”

“Very true.” Kian raised his beer. “Good for you, lads. To quitting.”

“Don't say that too loud. Paps could think we've got another Bryan on our hands.”

“Thanks. Ruin it.” Kian put the glass down. “Any other announcements?” They all shook their heads. “Brilliant. I'm in for a knees up.”

“Aren't you driving to Sligo tomorrow?” Shane asked

“That's tomorrow,” he pointed out. “Finish those I'll sort another jug.” He began to wave over the waitress. “Taking Jodi. It'll be her first Sligo Christmas.”

“What about her family?”

“New Years.” Kian grinned. “Never thought I'd say this, but I think she's the one. You know when you just know?” Shane nodded sagely. “Feels like I've known her my entire life. Wouldn't mind knowing her for the rest of it.” He was getting sentimental. Nicky leaned over to hug him, laughing.

“Glad for you,” he said gently. Kian hugged him back. “Get us another round. I'm off to the toilet.” He patted him and started wandering for the door. It was dim inside. He blinked in the artificial light, picked a direction, and found his way to the toilet corridor.

When he came out he paused, disoriented. Stumbled out the other end of the corridor and laughed when he realised he'd taken the wrong direction, ended up in a standing patio, people clustered around ashtrays. He snorted and turned around. Yelped when he almost ran into Mark.

“Jesus...” He nudged past him.

“Thought you'd quit?”

“I had. Got turned around.” Mark's hands were in his pockets. “Why are you here?”

“Er... toilets?”

“That way.” He pointed back the way they'd come. They looked at each other. “Proud of you.”

“You too.” Mark smiled. “Um. I'm going to head off, actually. Get on the road to Sligo? You know how the traffic gets.” Nicky nodded. “I just wanted to say... have a good Christmas, yeah?

“Yeah.” They both leaned in. “Hug?”

“Sure.” It was stiff. Lingered for longer than Nicky had meant. When he pulled back Mark was looking at his shoes. “Hope things go alright with Jack. If it means anything, I'm... glad nothing happened. Before. I know we weren't officially exclusive but... you know. I hoped we were.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Mark gave him a lip-bitten smile. “Hey... I'll see you round.”

“See you round,” Nicky agreed.

  
  


*

  
  


If there was one thing Nicky could guarantee about New Years, it was that everyone would try to sing Auld Lang Syne and nobody would actually know the words. Not that it mattered. Just after midnight and everyone groping at sloshed. His sister's husband let off a party popper, making the kids jump and squeal. The living room was packed.

“Any resolutions?” his mam asked later. It was thinning now. Most of the kids had gone to bed. Pushing three in the morning.

“Not sure there's much point making them.” There was still some cold pizza on the table from earlier. He picked up a slice of pepperoni. “What about you?”

“And have something to break? No.” She put her arm around his waist. “Was it a good year?”

“As good as any of the others.” The door to the back patio opened to allow two of his cousins back in. All the smokers were clustered out there together. “Probably some stupid things I shouldn't have done, but it all worked out okay.”

“Sometimes that's all you can hope for.” She nudged him. “Go empty out the ashtrays, love. I don't want the bushes littered with butts in the morning.” He nodded obediently. He'd never told her. Didn't intend to. Some things you just kept to yourself.

He was tipping the last of them into a plastic bag, trying to avoid breathing in ash, when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.

“So er...” Mark ran a hand through his hair while Nicky stared, shocked. “I was going to blow a smoke ring or something because I thought it might be like... a cute in-joke? But I've gone two months without and I didn't want to ruin it. So... that was on the table. For the record.”

“I can pretend you did it?”

“Yeah. Okay. Cool.” Mark bit his lip. “Er.”

“I thought you were in Sligo?”

“I was. Or... I mean, I did midnight and then I was leaving my folk's place and then suddenly I was on the motorway? And I'm not sure what really happened but the traffic in the city was murder. I haven't been drinking if you're wondering.”

“Oh... well. Good then. Sensible.” The words felt numb. Nicky wasn't sure what the hell was going on. “Do you want some pizza?”

“I ate at home. Thanks, though.” He breathed out slowly. “Bet you're wondering why I'm here.” Nicky laughed. Realised he was still holding a plastic bag full of other people's disgusting ashes. He knotted it shut and put it down under the patio bench to throw away later. “Nicky.”

“Mark.” There was ash on his hands. He dusted them off.

“Um. So. How's quitting going?”

“Fine.” He could just see the edge of the patch peeking out from under Mark's sleeve. “I never really was that bad, so it was more the habit and stuff. You know.” Mark nodded. Fuck it. “You want to hear a funny story actually?”

“Okay.”

“I wasn't a smoker before we met. I just fancied you and thought you'd think I was cool so I started.” Mark's eyes widened. “So... yeah. Not that it's any defence but I was young and stupid, and you know what I was like with trying to impress boys.”

“I can't say I was expecting that,” Mark laughed. Nicky's face felt hot. Six fucking years and Mark could still make him feel like a lovesick eejit. “I already thought you were cool.”

“I am cool.”

“Yeah. You are.” He smiled. “Well, for the record it's shit. I keep pacing around thinking I'm looking for something and I can't sleep and I'm grumpy all the time. I wake up in the middle of the night and I want a smoke and then I remember I can't have one and I want to punch a hole in the mattress. It's like I'm missing something and I can't get it back.”

“Okay.” It was a bit more extreme than he'd expected, but he supposed Mark was more of an addict than he was. “It's getting better? The patch helps?”

“I thought it was. After a week it's supposed to get easier.”

“Did it?”

“Yeah. Kind of. Except then I saw you.” It came out in a rush. Nicky raised an eyebrow. “And all of a sudden I wanted to cry and everything was awful and I couldn't _sleep_ _,_ you know? You're supposed to just ignore it and breathe and all the rest of it but it wasn't just the smoking. It was what we used to have. Where we'd hang out and talk and you got me. And I know I don't have any right saying it but I can't sleep without you.” He bit his lip. “I just... I wanted you to know.”

“Oh.” Nicky's eyes were filling with tears. “Well. I appreciate that,” he said carefully.

“I care about you,” Mark murmured. “I just don't want you thinking you wasted your time or that I was playing you. Because I wasn't. It was never fake. The way I feel now isn't either. I miss you every second. I was scared and stupid and I thought I'd ruin it if I let myself so I tried to keep my distance. I didn't want to hurt you.”

“Mark...” Nicky bit his lip. “That's not how it works. Missing me isn't the same as wanting...” He sighed. It was too late for this kind of heartbreak. For Mark to rub in what they'd lost. “Give it some time. We can be friends again.”

“I don't _want_ to be friends again.”

“What do you want then?” Nicky snapped. “It's New Year's Eve and you come to my house and tell me all this shit and what do you want? You want to light up and talk about our fucking feelings? We've done it a hundred times over and what the fuck has it done for us?” A couple of people were starting to look their way. He didn't care. “Give me a single goddamn thing to work with here and stop talking in riddles.”

“I love you,” Mark blurted. Nicky blinked. “I love you,” Mark hissed again. He looked almost annoyed. “Jesus Nicky.”

“Oh, er...”

“I had a fucking speech and everything.” Mark glared.

“Sorry.”

“S'fine.” They looked at each other warily. “Okay?”

Nicky stared at him. The smoke was thick out here. Everything smelled of fireworks and ashes, the burnt funk of sulfur. Mark looked almost yellow in the patio light. It was three in the morning. He was exhausted. The cold pizza was already repeating on him.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Right.” Mark nodded awkwardly, and in that moment he was that frightened boy again, the one stood on Shane's porch trying to struggle with something bigger than himself.

He was beautiful.

“You bring a toothbrush or anything?”

“Er...” Mark looked confused. “No?”

“I'll talk to mam, get you set up on my bedroom floor,” Nicky offered. He studied Mark. “I'm gonna crash.” He gestured toward the stairs. “Stay the night and in the morning you can have breakfast with my folks.” Mark nodded eagerly. “You're fucking ridiculous, you know that?”

“That's your type now?”

“Apparently so.” He sighed. “Come here.” Then Mark was in his arms again. Warm and soft. Nicky breathed him in. Noticed he smelled different and chuckled to himself when he realised it was Mark, musky and sweet, not woven with tobacco. He felt a kiss brush his hair. “Love you,” he whispered. Mark whispered it back. His heart sang.

“Let's go inside,” Mark suggested softly. “The smell's making me want a fag.”

 


End file.
